A/N: This story will follow the lives of Ron and Hermione from the end of DH, to the epilogue and then beyond. This places all of my head canon in one story, along with tidbits of canon provided by JKR throughout. I like to stick mostly to canon post war, so I've followed the books to a T, and mostly everything post war is canon or canon-compliant. There will be the odd change, most barely noticeable.

Also, standard message that this in no way follows the Cursed Child plot at all, and I ignore it completely. This includes Hermione becoming Minister for Magic (which I know is something people like to include), as it makes no sense in comparison to the other canon JKR has provided. Plus, I hate Cursed Child, so… yeah.

Also, prior to reading this, please be aware that this story is intended to be LONG, it is intended to be an extremely slow burn. The chapter length is currently unknown, but I am predicting well over 200 chapters by the end. This is also not action packed, nor is it filled with unpredictability. This is a story where I go into excruciating detail about their lives after the war, but the intention is to be no surprises. Everything you think will happen, WILL happen. Please be mindful of that before going into this. I don't want anyone to be left disappointed. The idea is to detail their lives, not to have you on the edge of your seat with anticipation! If that's what you're after, this story is not for you.

This story also will contain implied sex. Sex scenes resemble 90's sitcoms — you have the before, you have the after, but none of the in between. They also talk a bit (not a lot, because it's not my focus) about sex. I am writing about their relationship, so it's obviously going to exist, but it's not going to be detailed, just implied.

Also, last but not least, this story has an Instagram account. As it's so long and detailed, I've decided to add some hopefully additional entertainment to it. The handle is (with no spaces) 'whenihaveyou . romione' on IG. Please feel free to follow. If for some reason you can't see it on here, feel free to PM me for it. I'll be posting small sneak peaks, responses to questions, etc on there. I'm even throwing my hand up to attempt some fanart on my own story, but I promise that writing is more my thing lol.

And now, to the story (I swear the future a/n's won't be this long). I hope you enjoy, and as usual, your thoughts, comments, questions, are all appreciated!


Chapter 1

Ron brushed a stray strand of hair away from Hermione's face, which lit up at his touch. A smile graced her lips, but her eyes remained closed for a few moments longer. It was their favourite way to spend their afternoons; lying on his Chudley Cannons spread, arms around each other, sometimes dozing or sometimes talking. After long days of preparing for the coming funerals and Flooing to Hogwarts to help with repairs, it was always nice to come back and not think about the devastation that had befallen the wizarding world. While everyone grieved, these few moments together were a welcomed solace.

When laying beside her, Ron allowed himself a few moments of happiness. Because that's what she made him feel: happy. When she'd thrown her arms around him and kissed him in the middle of the war, he thought he'd loved her then. Now, ten days later, he realised how mistaken he'd been. This was love. Spending almost every moment, day and night, with her; holding her, kissing her, had made him fall helplessly in love, and for the first time ever, he was almost certain that she felt the same way.

He kissed her lightly on the lips, running fingers through her thick hair. She smiled against him, her eyes finally opening.

"We should go down and help the others with dinner," he murmured. "Before Mum comes looking for us."

As was to be expected, Molly had been a mess since the end of the war. Fred's death had impacted all of them, but no one more than his mother. For the first few days, they'd not seen her as she kept herself locked away in her bedroom, Arthur bringing her every meal. On the third day, she'd ventured out for a few moments before taking one look at everyone and bursting into tears. She'd spent another two days locked away after that.

She was out and about now, but out of respect for her feelings, Ron felt it best to keep his sudden relationship with Hermione secret. He did not think his mother would take kindly to one of her sons finding happiness in such a dark time.

They'd intended to keep it secret from everyone apart from Harry and Ginny, but word had gradually gotten out amongst the rest of the Weasleys. Bill had stumbled upon Ron placing a kiss on her forehead one evening before going to bed. Charlie had caught them holding hands in the Burrow's garden another night. Percy seemed to just know, and Arthur had awkwardly found them in a passionate embrace one morning in a Hogwarts' corridor.

No one spoke of it after, though. Everyone seemed to know better than to mention anything in front of Molly, so meal times resulted in limiting their affection to smiles across the table. That made these moments alone even more special.

Hermione sat up, resting her back against the headboard and yawning. Today had been especially difficult; after days of being hounded by the press as they demanded answers and spat out ridiculous theories (at Hogwarts, of all places), Harry had Disapparated to who knew where and hadn't returned. If he had any sense, he would have gone somewhere no one would find him. Ron suspected he had gone to Grimmauld Place.

"You think Harry's alright?" Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes.

"No, not really," Ron said. "But I can't blame him. The media have been unforgiving. It's easier for us to brush them aside, because they don't care as much about us. Can't imagine what it's like for him."

"How long should we give him?" Hermione asked.

"A few days." Ron shrugged, feeling his mood darken. "Fred's funeral is in three days. Lupin and Tonks' the day after that. I can't imagine him missing them."

Hermione looked less convinced. She looked at Ron, clearly worried. Ron placed an arm around her shoulder and drew her to him so that her head was on his shoulder. "He'll be alright," he assured her. "He just needs some time."

There was a moment's silence, and then, "Ron?" Hermione's voice cracked as she spoke his name.

"Hm?"

Silence again. Ron squeezed her tighter as he felt hot tears against his shirt. It wasn't unusual for these moments to end in tears, for one reason or another. They'd both had their fair share of crying over the past week and a half. He'd lost count of the number of times she'd been there for him, especially after the first few days when the memories of Fred haunted him most clearly. They still did, but he'd managed to get them under control for the most part. Though, he was dreading the funeral.

"Hey."

Hermione lifted her head at the sudden voice appearing at Ron's bedroom door. It was Bill, looking at them both with defeat. "You two better come down soon, otherwise Mum'll send a search party. She wants to start dinner, and Dad is fighting her…"

"Mum wants to cook?" Ron asked.

Bill nodded. "She's insisting. Ginny is really giving it to her, but she's refusing to listen." He smiled slightly. "I guess it's good to see some of the old fight back, eh?"

Hermione pulled away, wiping the tears from her face. "We should go and help," she sniffed.

Ron nodded, and they both climbed off his bed. Hermione left ahead of them, walking past Bill as if slightly embarrassed that he'd seen her cry. Ron went to follow, but Bill stopped him by clasping a hand on his shoulder.

"You alright? Dad mentioned what happened with Harry today."

Ron nodded. "Yeah. I think a part of me knew it was coming. He's been one moment away from an explosion all week. We've just got to give him some time."

Bill nodded, squeezing his shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks," Ron said.

Bill let Ron go past, following him down the stairs without speaking. Everyone was in the kitchen, Ginny arguing with Molly.

"We told you, Mum! You're not doing anything. The rest of us have got this. Look —" she threw a hand in Ron's direction, "— Ron's here now. An extra pair of hands, an extra wand! We'll have dinner ready in no time."

"Come on, Mum," Bill said, gently placing his hands on Molly's shaking shoulders. "Let's go and sit down." He slowly guided her from the kitchen and into the living room.

After she was gone, Ginny rounded on Ron. "Your appearance a little earlier might have been beneficial, you know." Her eyes flickered to Hermione, softening when they saw her tear-stained face. She looked away. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's alright," Ron said. "We're here now. Where do you want us to start?"

It had become the norm for all the children to prepare the meals each night, with some help from Arthur occasionally. It was the least they could do to make things easier, but since their mother had decided to venture from her room, insisting that they could handle it had become increasingly harder. Ron suspected she wished to busy herself by cooking for her large, yet broken family.

Tonight's preparation was sullen. Even the occasional laughter that had occurred other nights was gone. Ginny's mood was dark, her hurt at Harry's disappearance obvious. Like Ron and Hermione, she'd chosen not to share her relationship with Harry to her mother. If that was what it even was. Harry had pushed most of them away, including Ginny, and had snapped at all of them more than once in the last few days.

Dinner was even quieter, with no one speaking apart from asking someone else to pass a bowl over. Ginny, who had been the most cheerful of the bunch, said nothing at all and barely touched her food. Molly watched her with concern, but said nothing, perhaps understanding why her daughter was so upset. There was an emptiness around the table, one that could only be filled by Harry's reappearance — and, Ron thought, George's. Both were as much part of the family as the other, but neither wished to see anyone.

Hermione helped Bill and Charlie clear the dishes and do the washing up, while everyone else moved into the living room. Ron sat on a conjured two-seater couch that really needed a good clean, saving the second spot for Hermione when she returned.

A small chatter started around the fireplace, with Percy talking of how the Ministry was looking to get things back to normal in the coming weeks.

"Something needs to be done," he said to Ron. "In this time, people need leadership and we currently have none." He then lowered his voice so that only Ron would hear the next part. "Between you and me, the talk is that Kingsley Shacklebolt will be appointed the next Minister for Magic."

This surprised Ron, and yet, it didn't at the same time. He looked at his brother. Percy had become somewhat more enjoyable to be around since the end of the war. Ron didn't think they'd be best friends any time soon, but at least he didn't get the urge to roll his eyes everytime Percy opened his mouth any more. He was Ron's brother, after all, and finally, Ron was able to see him as such.

"That's a good choice, don't you think?" he said.

Percy gave a curt nod. "Yes, I think so."

Hermione, Bill, and Charlie came in after that, and Ron shuffled over so that Hermione could sit next to him. Instinctively, he reached for her hand, but she jolted it away and nodded her head in his mother's direction.

He flushed, his face turning even redder when he saw that his mother was watching the two of them, her eyes narrowed.

"Great," Ron muttered to Hermione, "now she probably thinks you're rejecting my advances, or something."

"Wouldn't that please her?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think either way would please her."

Slowly but surely, people began drifting off to bed. Bill left via Floo for his home — as he did every night — while Charlie and Percy headed upstairs to their respective bedrooms.

When Ginny announced she was going to bed fifteen minutes later, Molly's eyes flashed to Hermione. "I suppose you'll be wanting to go to bed too, dear, so as not to wake Ginny?"

Hermione jumped, her cheeks reddening from the brashness of Molly's voice.

"It's fine, Mum," Ginny said. "I'll be fine."

"But, you don't want to wake her, do you Hermione, dear?"

Hermione had not spent a single night in Ginny's room since being there, just like Harry hadn't spent any in Ron's — an arrangement all four had been happy with. Ron had a sneaking suspicion that something had finally clicked with his mum, because she was now watching Ron as if waiting for him to react.

"Right," Hermione said. "I-I'll go, too. Goodnight, Mr and Mrs Weasley. Ron."

"Er, night, Hermione," Ron said. "See you in the morning."

After Hermione and Ginny had disappeared, a silence fell over the living room. Ron could only stand it for a few moments before he jumped to his feet and said goodnight, too.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he was disappointed to find Hermione not waiting for him in his room. He knew it had only been ten days, but the thought of falling asleep without her suddenly made him feel lonely. He'd become accustomed to her presence, her smell, sleeping with his arms around her, and waking to find her cuddled up against him in the mornings. It was a feeling he had hoped would last longer; forever, if he dared think it.

Unable to help but feel angry with his mother, he changed into his pyjamas and climbed under the covers. It was cold, and he had far too much space in his magically extended bed.

He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, and just as he was finally drifting off to sleep, he was woken by soft, warm lips against his cheek.

"Hermione?" he mumbled, making out her figure in the dark.

"Who else would it be?" Hermione asked, pulling back the covers and falling in beside him. "Ginny figured your mum would come and check to make sure I really was there — I think she suspects I've not been sleeping in the spare bed — so we had to wait."

"Did she?" Ron asked, rolling over and wrapping her in his arms. Instant warmth washed over him, and he buried his face into her hair.

"Yes."

"I'm glad you're here now." He kissed her shoulder and held her even tighter.

"Ron?"

"Mm?"

"What I wanted to say before, when I… couldn't…"

Ron loosened his hold on her, and she rolled over so she was facing him. He reached for his wand and lit it. He'd not realised she'd wanted to say anything before. "What is it?" he asked.

Under the wandlight, he saw her smile. "I wanted to say that I… love you."

The wand slipped from Ron's hand. He scrambled to find it from within the tangle of covers and relit it. "You… do?" In the mess that was the aftermath of war, it only occurred to Ron now that despite his intense feelings and love for her, he'd not actually said those words out loud. He'd thought them — every moment of every day — but he supposed his brain had been so convinced that she knew how he felt, that he had just assumed it was something they'd said to one another.

"Yes," Hermione said, her face practically glowing in the dim light.

"Oh, geez, I didn't even realise —"

"It's okay, Ron. I don't mean to rush you. I just wanted to tell you." She sounded so calm, so pleased with herself.

"What? Rush me? Oh, God, Hermione, I love you a ridiculous amount it's not even funny. I thought I told you that? Why have I never told you that?"

"Preoccupied?" Hermione suggested heartfully. "With a war, with losing our friends…"

Ron kissed her hard on the mouth, to which she responded enthusiastically. He felt her heart beating furiously against his chest, she was that close to him. The kiss deepened — by her, not him — and Ron became suddenly aware of every part of her. Her hands, in particular, had become rather adventurous, running along his arms, his chest, trailing further down... (Merlin, she was enthusiastic)... and then it hit him. He understood. And his bloody nerves got the better of him.

He pulled away, staring at her, the wand still in his hand. She stared back, her cheeks flushed, her breathing heavy, clearly determined to not feel embarrassed by her advancement.

Ron, however, didn't know what to do. Like forgetting to actually tell Hermione how he felt, anything other than holding her at night had not been a priority for him. He loved her deeply, he sought her comfort, but the grief still lingered and he'd not even contemplated taking their relationship further. Well, it had crossed his mind, but not as a serious thought. Not until after the funerals…

But now that it had been presented to him, even if she hadn't said the words directly, it seemed highly appealing.

"Have you, er, been thinking about this?" he asked, pulling completely away from her and sitting up in the bed.

"It's not something that spontaneously popped into my mind, if that's what you mean," Hermione said. For the first time, her voice sounded flat. "Sorry if I scared you. I just thought… I should probably have asked. Do you want to?"

"Yes!" Ron said, a little too quickly. He blushed, but then noticing the smile on her face he added, "Merlin, yes. I love you. I want to. You just caught me completely by surprise. That's all."

"Sorry." Hermione also sat up, facing him. "Perhaps I was a little too forward."

"No, no," Ron said. "I liked that." He grinned, albeit awkwardly. It didn't stop his body from tingling all over, though. A seed had firmly been planted in his mind now, and it was a good seed. A fantastic one.

"Just not tonight?" Hermione guessed.

Truthfully, as much as the idea thrilled him, it terrified him just the same. He was more than happy to kiss her, to hold her hand, but the concept of sex was something different. The insecurities he felt about being so intimate washed over him, just like they had done when Lavender had asked the same of him all those months ago.

The only difference this time was that he genuinely liked Hermione a whole lot more...

Taking his silence for hesitation, Hermione said, "I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't mean to —"

"Don't be," Ron said, reaching out and running a hand along her exposed arm. "You just made me start thinking."

"About?"

He watched her, his heart beating rapidly as he did. She was just incredible. Amazing. She was perfect, and there she was, scarred as much as him from the war, but wanting him. Ron. She loved him.

"Not tonight," he said, shaking his head. "But tomorrow? As nice as it was, you throwing yourself at me isn't exactly how I imagined it to go… not for the first time."

She smiled and nodded. "Okay," she said, and she crawled slightly forward on the bed and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, now realising how much he wanted her back, how much he wanted to be with her. Now, he had to exercise a whole lot of control because her touch set his skin on fire.

"Hm," he chuckled, pushing her away.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe we should… take a break," he said, uncomfortably.

"Why? Oh," Hermione flushed, seeing Ron's own red cheeks. She climbed off him. "Right. Sorry." She laid back down on the bed with Ron beside her, though he dared not touch her again just yet.

As he drifted off to sleep, his mind trailed to tomorrow night, and despite his heart pounding in his chest, and his sudden sweaty palms, it couldn't come quick enough.

His last thought before falling asleep was of Hermione, and how he simply could not control just how much he loved her.


And there is the first chapter of who knows how many! I hope you enjoyed, and remember, if you'd like some extra content, or just to interact, please follow the Insta (no spaces) 'whenihaveyou . romione'

This will also be published on ao3 (under FireTheCanon) and Tumblr (handle is 'whenihaveyouromione').

A MAJOR, HUGE, MASSIVE thank you to Autumn (insertcleverandwittytitlehere) who has graciously offered to beta this for me. Your feedback and help has already been AMAZING, along with your encouragement. THANK YOU.